Links in the Daisy Chain
by cakelesspixels
Summary: This is a collection of episodic stories dealing with some of the classic Disney characters, but focusing mostly on their connection to Daisy.


Nothing had gone according to plan. When Daisy returned to Duckburg with her tail between her legs, her sister, Donna, had opened up her home to her until she could get back on her feet. Daisy hesitantly agreed to the arrangement. It had felt like the first step to admitting failure.

The two bedroom ranch home wasn't her dream house, especially when her bedroom was nothing more than a dressed up corner of the basement. The only upside was that she was able to live closer to Donald and his nephews, as well as living under the same roof as her nieces for the opportunity to spoil them on a daily basis. Being the fun aunt was easy when she got to hand over the girls to Donna for discipline.

She'd come back to her basement apartment after work to slide under the covers. The only thing that could normally drag her out from the depths of her self-pity was her nieces begging for her attention. It was impossible to say no to their faces or even Webby. She wasn't one of Donna's girls, but Webby was like a member of the family nonetheless and her gentle prodding could get Daisy out of bed.

"Daisy?"

"Go away, Donna."

"Daisy, I need to talk to you." Daisy was convinced that Donna was hard of hearing sometimes. The smell of honey almond soap wafted through the air when Donna descended the stairs; she must have taken a shower after work.

Daisy sighed. "About what?"

"Work."

"Work was fine."

"No, no, I don't mean like that," Donna said. "I was talking to a friend of mine today and she told me about a job opening you might be interested in. It's not exactly what you want to do, but it's closer than your current line of work."

"What is it?" Daisy sat up. Her bow was starting unravel and her uniform was disheveled from rolling around in her bed. She'd debated putting on her night clothes, but depression had won out and she convinced herself she could clean and iron it before her next shift.

"Here." Donna handed Daisy a brochure. There were plenty of images of dancers of all ages with the words Webfoot Dance Studio etched on the cover. "You remember my friend I was telling you about? Holly? She's a teacher there and she said they're hiring for an office assistant. I know it's not your dream job, but it's a step in the right direction, yeah?"

Daisy stared at the brochure, flipping through its pages. "Well, it'd be better than being a waitress."

"Exactly! And maybe you can make friends with a famous dancer there!"

"Right." Daisy smiled. Her sister had no idea what she was talking about, but she couldn't expect her to. Donna had been the sensible one, according to their mother, who avoided an arts-related career. Instead, she'd made the more financially stabled choice of being a nurse. It did mean she was slightly clueless when it came to anything related to the arts on a professional level. There was no reason to start correcting her when all she was trying to do was help.

"I already set up an interview for you."

"Seriously?"

"You need to get out of this rut, Daisy," Donna said. "So I told my friend to set up an interview for you. She's pretty close to the owner. She said the earliest they could see you was tomorrow at two."

"You were really this worried about me?"

"Yes," Donna admitted. "That and this will give you better hours so that you can be here when the girls get off from school and I'm at work."

Daisy laughed. "I should have known you had a trick up your sleeve."

"So you'll go?"

"I'll go," Daisy agreed. She hugged her sister. "Thanks, Donna. I really appreciate this."

"You can thank me by getting the job," she said. "I have to go get dinner ready."

Donna headed back upstairs and left Daisy to her thoughts. She flipped through the brochure now that she was alone with it. She briefly wondered if she'd be given a discount on classes if she was able to get the job. Although it wasn't what she'd been wishing for, she couldn't help but feel a renewed vigor. It would put her in contact with artsy people again which was a step in the right direction. Daisy spent the rest of the night trying to gleam as much information about the dance studio and Donna's friend over dinner and even after dinner. Donna was only able to get away from her hounding by heading up to bed.

The next morning, Daisy could hardly contain her excitement. She'd picked out her best interviewing dress that was, in her opinion, incredibly flattering and she pulled her hair into a tidy bun for a more professional look. The studio was in a large, albeit rather nondescript brick building. The only reason Daisy knew she was in the right place was the sign above the door proudly proclaiming the name Webfoot Dance Studio.

When Daisy stepped inside, she was hit with a flood of memories. The studio was reminiscent of the one she used to attend as a girl with Donna and Minnie. It seemed as time rolled on there were a few things that would always stay the same. Behind the receptionist desk was an older duck with rather big yellow hair. She looked as if she were around the same age as Daisy's mother. The woman didn't seem to notice Daisy as she approached the desk as she was completely engulfed in whatever task she was working on.

"Excuse me? Ma'am?"

"Hm?" The woman looked up, slightly startled. She immediately dropped whatever it was she was working on to give Daisy her full attention. "Hello! How can I help you?"

"Hello, I'm Daisy Duck," she said. "I have a two o'clock meeting with Madame MacBridge."

"That would be me," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you! I've heard so much about you and your sister. And, please, call me Brigitta."

"You're Madame-I mean, Brigitta?" Daisy looked the woman over a second. "I didn't expect to see you out here answering phones."

Brigitta laughed a bit. "Well, our old assistant quit rather suddenly. That's why we need someone to take her place. Are you good at typing?"

"Yes, I-"

"And you can answer the phone and keep a schedule?"

"Yeah, it's-"

"Good, then you have the job!"

"But… wait, I do?"

"Can you start now?"

"I-"

"Great!" Brigitta grinned. "Now I have to get back to my own work. Holly will give you a brief run through on all of this."

"Wait!"

Brigitta didn't wait. She called out for Holly in a loud, sing-song voice. A few seconds later, Holly Goldstein emerged from one of the rooms. She fit Donna's description to a T. She was a Golden Sebright with her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and bangs that came down to just above her eyes.

"You called?"

"Daisy, you already know Holly from your sister, right?"

"My sister's told me about her, yes."

Brigitta didn't seem to be listening to Daisy's response. "Holly, could you show Daisy how to answer the phone and all that? I would do it myself, but I have a few important phone calls to make."

"I would-"

"Thank you so much, Holly, dear!"

"-love to."

Brigitta had already disappeared into her office. Holly turned to Daisy with a warm smile. "So, you're Donna's sister, right?"

"Guilty as charged," Daisy said. "So you're going to show me the ropes around here?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I guess I am." Holly gave a nervous chuckle. Daisy tried not to be too concerned about the lack of confidence in Holly's voice.

"How does the phone answering system work?" Daisy took a seat at the desk.

"Well…" Holly rubbed her neck as she approached. "The phone sits here and you answer it when it rings. And then you either write down who called or take their money. We mostly encourage you to take their money."

"Oh… that's it?"

"I think," Holly said. "No one ever calls for anyone specifically. If anyone asks for someone, just take a message. I doubt they will though. Oh, and there should be a file on the computer that has a list of the classes we offer. If anyone asks, just tell 'em what we have open and put 'em in the class they want."

"What if a class is full?"

Daisy was a bit surprised when her question was met with laughter. The chicken was holding her sides as she doubled over. After a few seconds, Holly's laughter began to subside. Clearing her throat, she straightened her posture.

"Oh. Oh, you were serious," Holly said. "Yeah, um, don't worry about that."

"You never fill up a class?"

"No, not exactly."

"I hope you're not offended by my asking but… is there a more popular dance studio people go to instead?"

"Not a dance studio, no," Holly answered.

"What do you mean?"

"Here's the thing about Duckburg," Holly said. She headed to the front window and turned to look back to Daisy. She pointed a thumb towards the building across the street that Daisy hadn't taken notice of before. She was a little embarrassed she'd somehow missed the bright pink building despite it being plain as day. The sign above the door was a lot flashier than Webfoot's; the glittery letters proclaiming its name, Pageant Parade. "Duckburg is a pageant town."

"Pageant town?"

"Yeah, see, most of the parents in this town want their daughters to be pageant queens," Holly explained. "And occasionally, pageant kings, but the boys are usually signed up for sports. Anyway, word is that you make more money as a pageant queen than a dancer around these parts."

"I guess I just expected our biggest competition to be another dance studio."

"I wish," Holly said. "At least then I'd feel like it was a competition where we could both walk away with our dignity."

"And she set up shop right across the street from you?"

"Well, actually, Brigitta set up across from her."

When Daisy expressed her confusion, Holly began to explain the history of Webfoot Dance Studio. Brigitta had opened the studio not to steal students from Pageant Parade, but with the idea they could work in tandem. She'd believed that Trudy Van Tubb, the owner of Pageant Parade, would send students her way to learn how to dance for the talent part of the pageant. What Brigitta hadn't counted on was a lack of interest from the girls and their parents. They would slap together routines that looked similar to dance movies without actually committing to being a dance. Brigitta's brilliant scheme was dead on arrival.

The more Holly explained how the office worked, the more downhearted Daisy could feel herself becoming. This really wasn't anything close to what she dreamed. They weren't really even doing much good in the dance world on a child's level. Daisy was eventually left to her own devices when Holly's students started to arrive.

It didn't take her long to miss Holly's company. Although there was plenty of paperwork on the desk, a lot of it seemed like nothing more than busywork. It didn't help that calls weren't coming in, except for the occasional wrong number. Daisy quickly assessed that the number Webfoot used had once belonged to a pizza delivery place. The hours passed by slowly as she went from one dull task to the next.

"Daisy?"

Daisy jumped at the sound of Brigitta's voice. It had been a surprising, but welcomed, interruption from the quiet of the lobby.

"Daisy, are you out here?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Oh, wonderful," Brigitta said. "Are you busy right now?"

"Uh, no, not right now," Daisy said. "I've been keeping on top of everything."

"Great!" Brigitta handed her a sheet of paper. "Can you take this to Holly for me? I need you to get her to sign it. I have a few people I need to talk to ASAP so I thought, 'Hey, why not let Daisy handle this?' So I put it in your hands! Besides, I don't want to be the one to interrupt her dance class."

"No problem," Daisy said. "I got this."

"Thanks, sweetie," Brigitta said. She disappeared into her office once again. Daisy wasn't sure why Brigitta couldn't wait until after classes had concluded, but she wouldn't question her new boss' actions too much. She headed into Holly's classroom where she was still in mid-lesson with a small class of students of varying age range. The room looked like a page right out of Daisy's childhood. She wished Minnie and Donna could have been there to see it. She'd have someone to take that trip down memory lane with.

Holly stood at the front of the room, close to the small iPod that was blasting out one of the more recent Powerline songs for the students to dance to. Daisy couldn't really help it. Her hips began to move to the beat of the music as she waited for the right time to approach Holly. The class was a little more intense than the one she remembered from her own childhood, but the dance moves still looked rather doable. Desperate to prove it to herself, she started to mimic their actions with the paperwork still in her hand. The dance was growing fast in pace and it was becoming a little more difficult to keep up. Daisy wasn't ready to give up on following along just yet. It was something she had to prove to herself.

It was bad luck that put an end to Daisy's dancing. Daisy had been keeping up with the beat until she felt her heel slipping out from under her. With a shout, she fell backwards into one of the dancers. The other girl let out a horrified scream and Daisy could do nothing as the fall set off a domino effect. Daisy didn't move from where she'd fallen on the hardwood floor. She could only watch as the other dancers toppled over and knocked each other to the ground. The only person spared from the "massacre" was Holly. The slender chicken stared at pile of tangled up dancers with a surprised expression.

"Huh… Well, the real shame is I can't think of any funny jokes for this."

"Sorry!" Daisy exclaimed. "Sorry, everyone! Sorry!"

She could feel the entire room staring daggers at her. The only exception was the still confused Holly at the front of the class. People slowly got back to their feet and Daisy could hear mentions of bruises and even scrapes.

"Hey, everybody, how about we call it a day?" Holly said. "We'll pick up again next week. Sorry, everyone!"

Daisy buried her head in her hands as the class filed out of the room. They shot angry glares her way and continued to murmur under their breaths. Daisy wasn't able to pull herself up off the floor until after everyone had exited. She was unable to meet Holly's eyes.

"I think you've been having a rough day."

"You could say that…."

"How about you head home?" Holly asked. "We'll be closing up soon anyway. I'll just tell Brigitta I sent you home early. She's used to me usurping her authority. She won't even blink."

"Thank you," Daisy said. "Holly, I'm really sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Huh? Yeah, sure, don't sweat it."

"You're not mad?"

Holly gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Nah, I got to take the day off early thanks to your disastrous dancing skills. You ever think about getting lessons? As an employee, you can take them here for free."

"I already know how to dance, thank you."

"Mhm."

"Okay, all of this was an accident! I slipped!"

"Right."

"Ugh!" Daisy placed her hands on her hips. "I'll prove it to you one of these days."

"Yeah, how about you just head home and get some rest?"

Daisy sighed. "Do you think your class will be able to forgive me?"

"Don't worry about them," Holly said. "I'll bring them some stickers. They'll get over it."

"Stickers? Really?"

"Well, yeah," Holly said. "What's your suggestion? iNot/i get them stickers?"

Daisy shook her head. "I'll be going now." Their farewells were short and sweet. Daisy was relieved to see the dancers had cleared out by the time she reentered the lobby. Her relief didn't last long as the sound of rain gently rapping at the window stopped her in her tracks. She'd left her umbrella at home. It was raining and she had no form of protection from it. She would be soaked by the time she reached her car. She turned when she felt someone tap her shoulder.

"Umbrella?" Holly held up a clear umbrella. "Brigitta keeps a spare one around the office for emergencies."

Daisy turned to take the umbrella from Holly's hands with a small, weary smile. "Thanks. I'll bring it back tomorrow."

She walked back toward her car, shaking off the umbrella outside the door before tossing it in the backseat. The drive home was spent fighting with rush hour traffic for over an hour before she finally made it back to Donna's. Daisy entered the house with her head hanging low. She gave her nieces a half-hearted hello as she passed by them, heading to her basement apartment. She ignored Donna calling out to her in favor of heading downstairs and curling up on her bed. She wasn't surprised to hear the basement door open. She'd counted on Donna coming down to check on her whether Daisy wanted her to or not.

"Daisy?" Donna called out. "Is everything okay?"

"No."

"Dazzle, what happened?"

Daisy took a few seconds before answering. "I made a fool out of myself today."

"I'm sorry Daisy."

"This isn't what I wanted for my life, Donna."

"I know," Donna said. There was no judgment or mocking in her words, only sympathy. "Trust me we're in the same boat, Daisy. I didn't want to be a divorcee, but here I am, raising three girls on my own. Well, with you here, I can't say I'm completely on my own for now."

Daisy frowned. She was embarrassed to admit that she was just now slowly realizing how much her sister understood where she was coming from. While Daisy had been trying to make it big in St. Canard, Donna had been left behind in Duckburg dealing with the aftermath of a rather messy divorce. Without warning, Daisy lifted herself off the mattress to embrace her sister.

She could feel Donna slowly patting her on the back. "But you know what?" Donna said. "Instead of feeling sorry for ourselves, we should make the best of what we've got. I still have my girls and there's no law that says you can't keep looking for a better job. This is still a step up from being a waitress."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Daisy said. "And it might give me a chance to audition for local stuff. It's not as glamorous as, say, St. Canard, but beggars can't be choosers, right?"

Donna smiled. "And you never know where it could lead."

"Thanks, Donna." She hugged her tightly once again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Donna said. "Now how about you come up and get some dinner?"

Daisy nodded. Donna headed back upstairs to finish dinner while Daisy stayed behind for a while longer. She looked over her small basement domain and was, for the first time, feeling a little fond of it. It suddenly wasn't the room of defeat she once saw it as, but home.

She was home.


End file.
